Lessons
by Indigo Fly
Summary: Natsume lowered his head. A tutor for art? How low could he sink?  NXM
1. Of Gnomes and Fairies

I do not own Gakuen Alice. But a girl can dream…

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><p><strong>Lessons<strong>

_By: Claire-ify_

"You're failing."

Natsume rose an eyebrow. He already knew that, what was the point of dragging him all the way to Narumi's stupid frilly office to tell him?

He gave his professor a dead-panned look. "…And?"

Narumi chose to make a big deal out of this and flung his hands around. "Natsume, how could you say that!" he exclaimed. "I don't even know why you signed up for Visual Arts in the first place when you clearly don't even care about it."

"Because it's recommended for those who want to pursue architecture. And since I never drew a lot of junk when I was younger, I figured I might as well learn," Natsume explained with narrowed eyes.

"Well, you're not learning, and haven't learned onebit about drawing _or_ painting since you got here. The only reason you're only 2% away from the passing grade is because of your written work." Narumi put a dramatic hand to his forehead. He looked at Natsume. "Honestly, if I hadn't read your essays, I wouldn't have known why you were called a genius."

"Shut the-"

"And I think you need to understand the real concept and expressionism of art more, too."

"All I need, Narumi, is a passing grade. I don't care about any of that crap you waste your time teaching the idiots in your classes. I don't care about the 'expressionism' of art or whatever, " Natsume fumed. He leaned closer to the tall, feminine man. "So why don't you make this easier on both of us and just bump me up 2%, because I'm pretty sure you don't want me in your class again."

His professor sat staring out the window, tapping his fingers on his desk. "Are you done yet?"

Natsume growled.

"Good, because I've found the perfect way for you to pass!" Narumi stood and began flipping through some files in a cabinet.

A small bead of sweat made it's way down Natsume's face. If he had to do _another_ extra-credit assignment on the beauty of the male anatomy, he was going to-

"Here we go!" Narumi flopped a file onto his desk.

Natsume tensed as he watched him flip through the file's contents. Narumi was smiling joyously. _Oh God, I'll have to study naked bodies of guys again, I know it,_ Natsume thought bitterly to himself.

"Mikan Sakura!"

That didn't sound like anything Natsume was expecting, to his delight. It sounded like a name. He looked at Narumi. "Who's she?" inquired Natsume.

"Well," Narumi started, "Mikan Sakura happens to be my best student and one of the best artists I have ever had the pleasure to meet. She really understands the magnificence one good stroke of a paintbrush can have." Stars appeared in his blue eyes. "Oh, she is just brilliant! Mikan can paint or draw anything she wanted if she put her mind to it!" The stars gradually dimmed and faded away. His expression grew grim. "If only…if only things weren't so bad for her…Then maybe…maybe…" Narumi stopped talking.

Natsume's curiosity peaked. "Maybe what? What's wrong with her?"

He wished he hadn't said anything; maybe that way he would have gotten more information about this girl.

Narumi blinked and-slightly startled-spoke in rushed words, "O-oh, don't worry about it. Just don't think about it too much."

"What happened to her?"

Natsume was stubborn and Narumi knew it. Sighing dramatically, Narumi gave in before even _more_ information about Mikan Sakura escaped him. "She's just had a bad past, is all. Quite a bad life overall, actually." Before Natsume could ask anymore questions, Narumi said, "I can't tell you anything else because that would be gossiping, and as much as I love gossip, telling you about Mikan would be to betray her trust in me. And that wouldn't be very fair, would it?"

Narumi batted his eyes at Natsume, who sighed out of frustration. "Fine, I won't ask anymore," Natsume grunted. That professor was a big pain in his ass.

"Excellent. Now, as I was saying, I'm going to arrange for dear, little Mikan to be your tutor in art." Narumi informed.

Natsume's heart sank. A tutor for art? How low could he sink? This was humiliating. Natsume would have to make sure only a few people knew, if any at all.

Narumi continued to blabber on. "I think you two will be the _best_ of friends! If you cooperate, that is."

Natsume glared at him. "I'll do this my own way. As soon as I learn how to draw a straight line, I'm gonna drop that girl so fast she won't even know until her ass hits the ground."

Narumi shook his head. "Tsk tsk, Natsume dear. You'll never get Mikan to like you that way."

"Why would I want that?" came the heated reply. "I don't even know what she looks like."

The girl probably wasn't even hot.

"And you won't know until you meet her," Narumi replied matter-of-factly.

Natsume ground his teeth. That perverted she-man was one of the most infuriating people he has ever met.

"So, because I'm such a great professor, I set up your date for you for the rest of the Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays until you can pass this class on your own," said Narumi.

"_What_!"

"I know, I know, you're surprised. But don't be. All you need to do is thank me."

The only thing that followed this was silence.

"That would be now, Natsume."

Still no thanks.

"Fine, be that way. But just know how I would only do this great favor for you. Anyways you need to be in the art room at 8:00 p.m. tonight. Sorry if it's too late for you, dear. That was the only time that would fit in Mikan's schedule."

"You call that late?" Natsume mumbled. He himself normally went to bed at midnight, if not later.

"I'll see you later, I have some work to do now, sweetie." Narumi said, smiling.

Natsume felt something inside of him break at the nickname. Ugh, he was probably going to have nightmares now.

He hurried out of that hellhole and slung his backpack over his shoulder. A few girls winked at him as he passed them in the hallway, but they weren't worth his time. Not only were they not attractive enough, but Natsume bet that they couldn't even keep up a decent conversation. He had high expectations, and though he wasn't a playboy, he had his fair share of girlfriends in the past.

_Mikan Sakura, _he thought. She was either a boring hag or one of those hippie people who were obsessed with colours and stuff.

That settled it. As soon as he could draw properly, Natsume was getting out of these art lessons.

* * *

><p>Natsume woke to someone whispering in his ear.<p>

"_You love Koko. You will buy Koko's lunch every day for the rest of the year. You will buy his clothes. You will do his homework. Because you love Koko."_

"What the hell?" Natsume exclaimed. He sat up and looked around him. There, beside his pillow, was a tape recorder. It was repeating the same message over and over again. Koko's stupid voice was already ticking Natsume off.

"_Koko!_" Natsume shouted. A fair-haired boy walked into his room with an irremovable grin on his face.

"What's up?" greeted Koko as he sat on his bed.

"What the fuck is this?" Natsume demanded, gesturing to the tape recorder.

"Oh, that's just some hypnosis I was trying out," Koko answered indifferently. Apparently he didn't have the brains to sense an obvious beating coming his way.

"On me?"

"Yeah, but I don't think it works. I've been doing this for about a month now," said Koko, rubbing the back of his head.

Natsume raised his hand and slapped Koko upside the head.

"Ow!" Koko protested.

"No more testing hypnosis or any of that crap on me or you get ten more of those," Natsume said, referring to the hits on Koko's head. "Now," he started, "what time is it?"

"A little past eight. Why?"

Natsume cursed, "Damn, I'm late. I got to go to this stupid tutoring thing for art. Apparently, I have to learn the 'expressionism of art' or something."

Koko laughed. "Wow, I have never heard of anyone getting a tutor for _art_. That's hilarious!"

Natsume inwardly groaned. Why did Ruka have to room with his girlfriend this year? At least _he_ didn't try to hypnotize him. Even though Koko wasn't the worst of roommates, he certainly wasn't the best.

Natsume promised himself that he would be rooming by himself next year. It wasn't like he didn't have any money, quite the opposite, actually. Natsume was rich. And he had to say, being rich _did_ have its perks.

After kicking Koko out of his bedroom, Natsume walked out of his apartment and headed to the art room, where he was sure an angry hag/hippie was impatiently waiting for him.

* * *

><p>Well, this was certainly unexpected. Not only was there no angry hag, but no angry hippie, as well. In fact, there wasn't even a person here.<p>

Natsume scouted the art room, his footsteps echoing off the brick walls. He searched all around the room, but could find this 'Mikan Sakura' anywhere. He sighed and checked his watch. 8:17, it said. She probably got tired of waiting for him and left. Typical.

Growling at the unfairness of his life, Natsume leaned against a beam near the center of the room.

This was different. It was silent. There was never much silence in Natsume's life and he had come to appreciate it. It wasn't like he disliked spending time with his friends or girls or anything, he just liked to take a break from all the attention every once in a while.

He had only just began to relax when the front doors flew open. Of course. Would anyone let him have just one moment of peace? No, because that would be kind.

Frustrated, Natsume turned to see a slender figure standing in the door. She was out of breath and keeled over as if every breath pained her. He took this chance to look her over, though it wasn't easy with the dim lighting.

She was petite and slender, he'd give her that much, but nothing out of the ordinary. She wore baggy jeans that looked as if they belonged in the 70's, and a baggy sweater that just looked old and wrinkly. This girl would have been easy to lose in a crowd, if not for her ghastly clothes…Well, that and her childish pigtails. God, it was like she was _trying_ to be a nerd.

Giving one last huff, the girl straightened and headed towards him. The girl looked at him and said, "I'm Mikan Sakura. I'll be your new tutor."

Natsume looked at her face and mentally sighed. She certainly wasn't very pretty. He had been hoping that maybe, if he was lucky, Mikan would be one of those rare, shy beauties, but no.

Balancing on her nose was a large pair of glasses that he guessed made her sight worse, and made it even harder to look at her eyes.

Mikan held out her hand, waiting for a shake.

Natsume scoffed at her. "I don't like to touch filthy hands, thanks."

Mikan's eyes narrowed. Natsume still couldn't see her very clearly, but knew that she was glaring at him. "Look, I'm here because Narumi asked me to, not because I have to. So I suggest cleaning up your attitude. Because if I leave, I'm pretty sure you'll fail art, and not only will you have to take it again next semester, but I'm sure _everyone_ will find out about it, too."

Damn it, she was right. Instead of showing his vulnerability, Natsume shrugged it off and walked towards the large tables. "Just tell me what you want me to do, little girl."

Mikan told him to get out a sketchpad, a 2B pencil, and an eraser: standard sketching tools. Natsume did what he was told and waited impatiently for Mikan to turn on the lights. God, she was slow.

He blinked away the bright spots that swirled around his vision when the lights turned on.

Finally. Natsume turned to complain to Mikan about her slowness when she turned to face him. His eyes widened.

She had taken off her glasses and replaced her pigtails with a bun, a few strands of multi-shaded brown hair framing her face. Though she did not have the high cheekbones and narrow face that Natsume usually preferred, her face was still somewhat narrow but plump, as well, which added to her features and seemed to suit her. Mikan's lips were set into an adorable pout; Natsume had to keep himself from jumping her.

But the thing that really captured him were her eyes. They were a molten caramel colour that seemed so naturally beautiful it was stunning. Mikan just seemed so amazingly _fresh_.

"What are you staring at?" Mikan's voice made Natsume drop back down to earth.

Normally, getting caught checking out a girl would make a guy embarrassed. But Natsume didn't get embarrassed. It just didn't happen to him-not with things like this, anyway.

"Why aren't you wearing your glasses?" He asked instead.

She sighed and answered hesitantly, "I don't wear them when I'm doing art. They tend to get in the way, like my hair." Mikan gestured to her bun. "Now," she said before he could ask anymore questions, "Why don't we start with something simple. Sit down and draw a flower."

Natsume sat down, but that was as far as he would go. "I'm not drawing flowers," he stated.

"Why not?"

"Because they're girly and flimsy and stupid," Natsume replied, leaning back in his chair.

"That's the dumbest reason I ever heard!" exclaimed Mikan. She continued to rant. "I want you to draw a flower because there are many ways to draw them and it's a good way to see how steady your hand is. And besides," she huffed, "flowers are_ not_ stupid."

Natsume rolled his eyes. "Can't I just draw something more…masculine? Like a truck or something?"

"No, you're drawing a flower."

"And if I refuse?" inquired Natsume.

Mikan thought about this for a moment. When Natsume thought he finally got her, she said, "Then I'll tell Narumi that you're not cooperating."

Natsume growled, "Stupid cow." He immediately began drawing a flower.

The last time he didn't 'cooperate,' Narumi made him pose in front of the class like a damn model and made everyone sketch him. All the girls squealed like pathetic pigs and immediately began not only drawing, but taking _pictures _of him as well. Needless to say, it was one of the most humiliating days of Natsume's life.

"Done," said Natsume, pushing his drawing towards Mikan.

Raising an eyebrow, Mikan picked it up and frowned. "Natsume, I said to draw a flower, not a goblin."

"It _is_ a flower, stupid."

Mikan scrunched up her nose. She observed the drawing for a few more moments before asking, "Exactly how much effort did you put into this…'drawing'?"

Natsume replied, "I don't know, you just told me to draw a flower, and I did. So there."

Mikan's eyebrow ticked as she looked at him with barely suppressed fury. "Did you even try?"

Natsume responded with a shrug.

Mikan let out a sigh of frustration. "If you never try, how do you expect to pass? You know, for a genius, you're pretty stupid."

"I am _not_!" Natsume snarled defensively. This girl had a knack of getting under peoples' nerves. He briefly wondered why Narumi favoured her so. "I just don't see the freaking point of putting so much effort into a stupid drawing."

Mikan's expression softened. She nodded. "Alright, hold out your hand face-down."

Grudgingly, Natsume did as he was told. He looked at Mikan strangely when she crouched down and looked at it. "Creep," he insulted.

She whacked his hand away. A cute blush tinged her cheeks. "I was just seeing if you had steady hands. Don't get all excited about it." Mikan stood up, only to walk over to his desk and sit down. "Your hand's very still, so that's good. I think the only reason why you're doing so bad in art is because…well, basically you just don't care."

"No, really?" Natsume put in sarcastically.

"But I'm hoping that I can change that," Mikan said, looking down. She looked out the window and seemed to stare at the night sky, but Natsume had a feeling that she was thinking about more important matters than the pretty colours of the moon. "I can understand why you don't appreciate art and why you don't care about it at all," said Mikan, finally looking at him.

Natsume snorted.

"No really!" Mikan protested. "I used to think a lot like you, too. You're not the only one who hates art, you know."

It was Natsume's turn to stare out the window.

"Do you know," Mikan started to ask, "what everyone means when they say that art is about expressionism?"

"That they're distracted by the pretty colours?" he answered half-heartedly.

"I'm being serious Natsume."

"I thought we made it clear that I don't know crap about art." Natsume looked at Mikan callously.

Why was she wasting his time? All he needed to know was how to draw and paint.

Mikan gave out a long sigh. "Why did I agree to this?" she muttered under her breath. "That stupid Narumi…Always making me do stupid things," she added resentfully.

Mikan lifted up Natsume's sad excuse for a flower. "Let's skip the whole 'expressionism' thing for now. Another important thing about art is observation. And judging on your obvious criticism of everyone, I think you'll do just fine on that."

She pointed to Natsume's flower. "What do you think about this flower."

Natsume stared at it for a second. Turning his head away, he said in a monotone voice, "It's fine."

"Is that what you really think?" Mikan asked.

Natsume merely nodded.

"Fine, be that way." Mikan threw down the drawing. Biting her lip, she crossed her arms and started to think.

Natsume took his chance to look at her. She wasn't like any girl he met. She got frustrated easily and didn't tear up when she touched him (Natsume decided to count the time Mikan had whacked his hand). She didn't stare at him and she most certainly didn't drool over him. Mikan didn't even look in _awe _athim.

Was she interested in girls? No, that couldn't be it. Natsume had even made a few girls go straight. Their mothers and fathers were _very_ pleased.

Mikan sat up straight. "Be right back," she said before running off to the backroom.

Natsume couldn't help but notice that she had a nice ass-a _very _nice ass. Man, would he love to-

"_I'm back!_"called Mikan, running over to him and interrupting his thoughts once again.

She grinned and showed him a large box containing artwork from students in some of Narumi's classes. "Okay, I'm going to show you a random picture from a random student. All I want you to do is tell me what you think about it." Mikan set down the box on a table. "And maybe some other questions that I ask."

Natsume nodded his head and leaned back. This seemed easy enough, but he kept himself wary for any surprises in case this was just a test to catch him off guard. He sighed. At least he didn't have to draw another freaking flower.

"Let's start with this one," Mikan suggested.

She held up a piece of paper and gestured for Natsume to look at it. He did. What he saw was an elegantly designed Greek-styled robe that hung on the back of a woman. All-in-all, the sketch was pretty good. Natsume voiced his thoughts.

"Good," said Mikan. "Now how about this one?"

It was a painting of a chair facing a plain wall. What the hell it was doing there or why someone would draw something so pointless was beyond Natsume.

"The picture is meaningless and the lines are too wobbly," he stated with a wave of his hand. This was too easy. Criticizing was his specialty.

"Alright," Mikan said, albeit a bit stiffly, "how about this one?"

She held up a picture of a…Was it a gnome? Natsume wasn't sure. It was fat and disgusting and just plain ugly.

"What the hell is that thing?" he asked.

"It says it's a garden fairy," Mikan said, reading the back of the 'drawing.'

Natsume snorted, "As if. That doesn't look remotely like a fairy of any sort."

Mikan looked at him furtively. "What would you change about it?"

Natsume sat straighter, looking at Mikan with narrowed eyes. "First of all," he started, "It's too fat. Fairies are supposed to be skinny and delicate, right?"

"You're right," Mikan commented. "What else?"

Natsume peered at the drawing. "Wings are too stubby. I'd make them longer and looked like they could actually-I don't know-_flutter_, or something," he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Good observation. So you've changed the fairy's body proportions. Now what?" asked Mikan.

Natsume looked intensely. He noticed the small oddities of the drawing and began to name them, all the while Mikan nodded her head at every one of his suggestions. "And I would draw some kind of background so that people could actually classify the type of 'fairy' this thing is," he finished.

Natsume leaned back in his chair proudly, folding his arms behind his head. He looked up and saw Mikan beaming at him. He smirked at her.

"See? You're not totally hopeless," Mikan said, patting his head.

Natsume growled and swatted her hand away.

He half-expected her to immediately apologize for being so 'forward,' as other girls called it (Natsume didn't know why). Instead, she laughed at him and said playfully, "You shouldn't be so up-tight all the time. Otherwise, whatever died when it crawled up your ass will never come out."

Natsume's eyes widened considerably. That idiot girl just laughed at him _and_ insulted him!

He took a breath of heated air and was about to retort when she shoved a piece of paper in his face.

"Show me what a garden fairy _should_ look like," commanded Mikan. She waited for him to take the piece of paper.

"No."

"Why not?" she asked innocently, eyes blinking.

Natsume remained silent and turned away.

"Oh, I get it. You're upset because I was making fun of you." Mikan laughed again and Natsume sat glaring at her, fuming. "You don't have to get so angry. I was only joking." She regained her composure. "But I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you all riled up."

"Whatever." Natsume muttered.

Some apology that was. Mikan didn't even sound sincere. She sounded like she about to burst into laughter again!

Natsume snatched the paper out of Mikan's hands and began drawing.

He carelessly created a thick body of a garden fairy and added wings. He gave it a boxy dress and even drew curly hair.

Natsume looked at it and was more or less satisfied. It wasn't as bad as some of his other ones, so he could accept it. He turned his attention to the drawing of the garden fairy and began to compare the two.

_They're the same!_ Natsume thought, horrified. The two fairies shared the same stout appearance and held not one ounce of 'delicacy,' as he had put it. The wings of both fairies looked like mutant stubs growing out of each chubby back. All-in-all, both drawings were terrible.

Natsume looked at his drawing again. Immediately, he began to notice a million different problems. The wings were too straight and pointy. The fairy was too fat and its legs were too short. Even the arms were too long and made it resemble a retarded-looking monkey, which made Natsume feel even worse.

He tried to erase his failure, but he found that he had pressed too hard with his pencil and couldn't completely obliterate the disgusting fairy.

Deftly, Natsume turned the piece of paper over and started again.

This time, he drew with soft, light lines to make it easier to erase if he made a mistake. Natsume was careful to craft the garden fairy to be pretty and slender, making sure that its dress looked animate, as if blowing in a soft breeze, and that the wings flowed upwards and ended in a proper point.

Natsume observed his picture. Something was missing. The drawing looked empty.

An idea formed in his mind and he filled in the areas around the fairy with a background. Natsume added various flowers he had seen in his mother's greenhouse and included different shade to make them more life-like.

"Done," said Natsume.

He looked at his picture and a smug grin lit his face. It was better than anything he had ever drawn or painted. It looked _real._ It was everything he said a fairy should be.

Natsume looked over to see Mikan's stunned face.

A small smile graced her expression. "Now _that's_ a garden fairy."

* * *

><p><strong><span>Author's<span> Note: **I originally wanted to write this as a one-shot, but it was way too long and I'm pretty sure if I wrote everything as one chapter, the story would look so long that most people would just skim over everything. I'm thinking there will be three parts to this story. REVIEW please!


	2. Of Plain Walls and Shaky Chairs

"Natsume, over here!"

Natsume slowly looked behind his shoulder to see a green-haired girl sprinting towards him

_Oh, great…_ he thought with disdain. The green-haired girl-Sumire, actually-was one of his many fan girls and one of the most annoying, too. She frequently cooed over him and seemed to enjoy nothing that did not include him.

"There you are, Natsume!" Sumire squealed in her special irritating manner. "I was looking for you everywhere."

"What do you want?" Natsume drawled.

"I just wanted to invite you to my parents' house for dinner. They've been _dying_ to meet you," Sumire spoke with a confident air. She caught no whiff of the heavy rejection coming her way.

Natsume continued walking away from her. When he had regained a good distance between them, he called, "Not on your life, seaweed face."

Of course, he never saw the tears that followed every rejection he gave to this persistent girl, or any girl, for that matter.

Ruka ran up to him. He looked at Sumire, pitying her situation.

"Natsume, do you really have to be so rude to all of the girls who like you?" asked Ruka. "You know, it wouldn't hurt to just give them a kind 'no' instead of shoving their feelings back in their face."

Natsume gave Ruka a deadpanned look. "Not all of us guys can be like you, Ruka. I still can't believe you can handle dating Imai. That girl's as cold as it gets." He ignored Ruka's baffled look and continued walking. "Besides," he added, "I couldn't care for a girl even if I wanted to."

"Well, you won't know until you try," Ruka continued.

"Then find me a decent girl and we'll see."

Ruka thought for a moment, his blue eyes searching skywards. "What about that art tutor girl of yours? She sounds interesting."

Natsume stopped, then said, "Interesting has nothing to do with it. She's a pain in the ass who doesn't even _resemble_ a girl. She's about as ugly as a fat-faced boar." Natsume brushed a lock of hair out of his face. "Not to mention her rotten attitude."

"Ouch," Ruka replied. "Wait a second, aren't you supposed to be in the art room at eight?"

"What's your point?"

"No point. Just that you've got about five minutes to get there," Ruka replied.

He didn't even blink when he heard Natsume curse and turn to run towards the art room.

Ruka laughed to himself. "Some things never change."

* * *

><p>Natsume quickly regained his composure and walked into the art room. He hoped Mikan hadn't arrived already. Otherwise, she'd be itching to give him hell. He had only been getting tutored for about two weeks now and was already <em>very<em> aware of Mikan's short temper.

Natsume didn't mean _everything_ he told Ruka-just some of it. It was painfully obvious that Mikan _didn't _resemble a fat-faced boar, and was quite good-looking, much to Natsume's dismay. He had tried so hard to make himself find her ugly and unattractive. Natsume had even forced himself to point out everything wrong about her, like the way her voice had the ability to give him a headache.

The problem was that he couldn't find enough to make him hate her; there were just enough to make her an another annoying pest in Natsume's life.

He walked into the dim-lit room and looked around for Mikan. Natsume's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

There, looking out the window, was Mikan. Her eyes searched frantically for something outside. Natsume had no idea what, but it was evident that whatever or _whoever _Mikan was looking for, she was afraid of. She seemed to be trying to stay out of sight of whatever she was watching for.

Her eyes were wide with fright and everything about her at the moment held an air of misery and dread.

What was it that Mikan was so afraid of? Natsume wondered briefly if this was what Narumi had been thinking of when he mentioned that Mikan had had a bad life.

Tentatively, Natsume took a step towards Mikan, and another. Slowly, he made his was toward the trembling girl and put a hand on her shoulder.

Mikan jumped and looked at him with large, teary eyes. Her heartbreaking expression was so tragic it made Natsume take a step back.

"Are," started Natsume, "are you…okay?"

Mikan closed her eyes and turned away, slightly red in the face.

Natsume guessed that he wasn't supposed to see her in her moment of weakness. But never would he have guessed that she could have held such misery inside her.

Mikan gradually salvaged her self-control and wiped her eyes. She looked at Natsume and seemed perfectly normal, except for her flushed cheeks. "I'm fine," Mikan answered, her voice only trembling the slightest bit. "Let's start on looking at portraits again, okay?" she proposed.

Mikan walked to the back room where all the painting and drawing were stored.

Natsume stared after her. He had no idea that she was so afraid of something. How could he? She always seemed strong and self-righteous. How could he have even imagined that Mikan was so…_desolate._

Natsume felt a great wave of guilt wash over him. He never thought that he would feel bad about treating Mikan so indifferently. He barely talked to her unless he was obliged to, and he even ignored her in the hallways whenever she caught his eye. Now that he thought about it, Mikan didn't even seem to have many friends.

Yes, guilt was both deserved _and_ hated.

Maybe he should treat her a little better from now on.

Mikan returned with yet another box full of drawing and paintings. Settling herself down in a chair, she motioned for Natsume to join her.

"Okay, we're going to look at paintings and drawings again," Mikan said to him. "But this time, you're not going to criticize the artwork. Instead, we'll be talking about _why_ the student or artist made it. Alright?"

Mikan looked to Natsume for approval, to which he nodded his head.

"Good," she said.

Mikan pulled out a large painting of the ocean. The sky was gray with stormy clouds that existed as vapors of gray haze. The waves crashed together violently and water sprayed in random directions. Natsume could even make out a touch of lightning in the distance, which added a very nice touch.

"What do you think the student was thinking when he or she made this?" Mikan asked after giving Natsume time to observe it.

Natsume took in all of the rough strokes and jagged, deathly-looking rocks that hid in the corner of the picture.

"He was probably angry," assumed Natsume. "It looks like this guy wanted to kill someone."

Mikan nodded approvingly. "That pretty much sums it all up. I talked with the person who made this, actually, and it was a girl," she pointed out. "Her boyfriend cheated on her with her best friend. After she finished her…uh, depressed stage, she became furious and made this."

"Sounds just like every other girl whose been cheated on," drawled Natsume.

Mikan bristled. "Well, how would _you_ feel if the girl you loved cheated on you with your best friend."

"First of all," Natsume began, "Ruka would never steal my girlfriend. Secondly, if I was dating a girl, she'd be too 'in love' with me to cheat on me."

"Well aren't you confident," Mikan muttered.

Natsume crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at her. "And besides, if I ever got myself a girlfriend, she wouldn't be the cheating kind."

"Then what kind would she be?" Mikan asked curiously.

Natsume looked away. His eyes searched for something to focus on. Anything but Mikan's big, brown eyes. _Stupid caramel colour, _he thought angrily. They couldn't just be dull or a weird fluorescent colour like most of the girls at Alice University.

"A kind that wouldn't cheat on me and know her place," answered Natsume when he realized that she wasn't going to let it go.

Mikan rolled her eyes. "Sexist pig."

"Can we just get on with the art stuff?" Natsume asked, not wanting to hear any more of Mikan's questions.

"Fine," mumbled Mikan.

She brought out a drawing of two rabbits, one white, one black. They were peacefully eating a carrot under the bright sun in a serene, grassy meadow under a bright, clear sky.

The picture made Natsume sick.

"Why the hell would someone want to draw_ that_?' he asked incredulously.

"You tell me," was Mikan's only reply.

"Why would I ask you if I already knew the answer?"

Mikan sighed and gave a small laugh. "It's not that hard. Come on, what do the rabbits look like? What are they feeling?" she pushed.

Natsume racked his brain. The only answer he could come up with was both obvious and cheesy. "I don't know, maybe they're in love?" he speculated.

"It was pretty clear, but you're right." Mikan looked at the back of the painting to read the description. "It says, 'Two Bunnies in Love.'" She wrinkled her nose slightly. "Even the title's corny."

Natsume looked at her, confused. "Wait, so you _don't_ like the painting?"

"Of course not. You'd have to have some deep, obsessive, loving feelings to like _this_ painting," she said.

Natsume gave her a curious look. "Just who drew that picture?"

Mikan turned her head down. "I shouldn't tell you. It would be rude to whoever's drawing this is."

"Who cares? It's not like they'll ever know."

"I don't want to," protested Mikan.

"Come on, just whisper it, if it makes you feel that bad," he urged.

She finally gave in. "Oh, alright, but just this once."

She turned to make sure no one was looking, which Natsume thought was very childish, but didn't say anything.

"It was Sumire Shouda."

Natsume eyes widened in horror. Quickly, he regained his former, indifferent expression and said in an indifferent tone, "I always knew that girl was weird."

Mikan laughed at that.

Natsume's face softened. He liked the sound of her laughter. And knowing that _he_ was the one who made her laugh made it all the more better. He shook himself out of his stupor. _Stop it, you're not supposed to like her, remember?_ he thought to himself.

Mikan pulled out yet another painting. This one was familiar. Natsume realized that it was the picture of the boring chair facing the wall that she had showed him on the first day of these lessons.

Natsume looked at it. It wasn't as bad as he remembered. In fact, it was rather intriguing how the artist had used the perfect shades of the colours she had used, and how the chair contrasted so well against the dark wall it faced.

"I remember this painting," stated Natsume.

Mikan smiled. "I'm glad you did," she said warmly. "What do you think the artist was thinking when she painted this?"

"Nothing?" he guessed.

"Close," she laughed. "Actually, she was thinking about her life. That was what the assignment, anyways."

Mikan's eyes glazed over.

Natsume realized that Mikan was done speaking. She hadn't even made her point. Impatient, he snapped, "Can you explain just a _little_ bit more? That would be great."

"Oh, sorry," Mikan said apologetically. She cleared her throat and began, "The reason why there is no one in the chair and nothing on the walls is because the artist wanted it that way. She wanted it to represent the emptiness in her life. The painting's boring because she decided to show just how much she was missing out on life."

Mikan tore her eyes away from Natsume's intense stare. When she spoke again, she said everything slowly, as if she thought over everything she said. "When I was talking to the artist, she told me that before this painting, she was thinking of committing suicide."

Natsume gave her a hard look. In a low voice, he asked, "Why did she want to do that?"

Mikan met his gaze and replied, "Well, I'd want to kill myself, too, if I were her."

"And you're not going to tell me what happened to her or who she is?" Natsume asked.

She shook her head.

Natsume sighed. She was just as stubborn as Narumi sometimes. Instead of trying to coax her into telling her the artist's name like last time, he asked, "Why are the lines so wobbly?"

"To show how unstable her life is-er-_was_," Mikan stammered.

Quickly putting the pictures back into the box, Mikan put her hand together and proposed, "How about we start painting today instead of drawing?"

"Finally," mumbled Natsume.

The two spent the rest of the night painting, scolding, and arguing. The difference between this night and all of the past nights was that Natsume _enjoyed_ it. And bit by bit, he came to enjoy the rest of the nights he spent with Mikan.

* * *

><p>On Friday, Natsume came into the art room in a rather good mood. He found Mikan waiting for him in her same baggy clothes with her hair up in a bun, just like every other night.<p>

During the lesson, he noticed that she seemed a little distracted from the lesson. Natsume caught her staring out the window with an expression that clearly showed the dread she must have been feeling.

On impulse, Natsume asked her if she wanted to go to his apartment that night to watch a movie.

Hesitantly, Mikan said, "I don't want your pity, Natsume. I've already got enough, thanks."

She slowly got up to leave but was stopped by Natsume's hand.

His expression was stern and unyielding. "This isn't pity," he said, "This is two friends getting together for a short movie and well-deserved popcorn."

Mikan laughed at that. "Well, if you feel so strongly about it, I guess I have no choice."

"Damn right you don't."

Natsume lead Mikan out of the building and they began the short walk to Natsume's apartment.

The walk began with an awkward silence until Mikan asked what movie they would be watching.

Natsume actually had not thought about it. He'd figured that they could go through Koko's movie collection.

"I suppose we can choose when we get there," Natsume suggested. "My roommate has a stupidly big collection of movies and stuff."

When they arrived at Natsume's apartment, Natsume saw Mikan gawking at the place.

"You live in _here_?" she cried out, astonished.

"Yes," said Natsume.

Mikan walked around the living room, obviously impressed by everything. "But how can you afford it?" she asked.

Natsume shrugged. "My parents are pretty rich," he replied. "And I make Koko pay for some of the rent."

Mikan looked at him earnestly. "You're lucky to have parents who care about you so much."

"I suppose I am."

Natsume took Mikan's hand and lead her around the living room to the cupboard where Koko kept all of his movies.

"I have no clue what any of these movies are so you can pick by yourself," he ordered.

She looked at him with wide eyes. "But I don't know which one to choose…"

"Then pick a random one, and we'll hope that it's a good movie," Natsume said as he headed to the kitchen to make popcorn.

When he returned, he found Mikan choosing between two movies. Her eyebrows were scrunched up in an endearing way, and she bit her lip in frustration.

"Natsume, I can't choose," she whined. "You pick."

"It can't be that hard," muttered Natsume when he looked at her chosen movies.

In her hands were _Inception_ and_ Forrest Gump._

Natsume gave her an exasperated look. "You really had to think about this?"

Ignoring Mikan's defensive protests, he walked over to the DVD player and set up the movie.

He plopped down on the couch, digging into the popcorn bowl. Natsume looked up to see Mikan standing, staring at the TV screen.

"What are you doing?" he asked leisurely.

She gave him an intelligent 'uh' sound.

He rolled his eyes. "Couches are meant for sitting. So sit," he commanded.

Mikan uncertainly sat on the armchair, her back straight and tense.

Without a word, Natsume stood up, walked over to her, and threw her over his shoulder. She was amazingly light and smaller than he thought.

"Put me _down_, Natsume!" she complained. "I'm not a doll!"

Natsume paid no attention to her. He dropped Mikan on the couch as lightly as he could and sat beside her. When he looked at her, he saw Mikan's pouting face.

Natsume gave a small chuckle and pulled the blanket out from behind them, wrapping it around them.

"Friends, huh?" Mikan mumbled dryly.

The two of them quieted down when the movie started.

_Inception_ was much better than Natsume remembered. The plot was remarkably thought out and twisted and the special effects were great.

But Natsume's favourite part was watching Mikan jump whenever something scared her. He would always hold her and make fun of her for being such a child. Mikan took such joy in watching movies. She laughed and giggled at parts when they were only remotely funny, but did so in such a way that Natsume couldn't help but laugh with/at her.

Much too soon, the movie ended and Mikan was baffled at the last scene.

"But was he in the dream world or not?" she demanded.

"I don't know, and that's how the writers' wanted it," replied Natsume.

"B-but the spinning top was wobbling and…" Mikan let out a frustrated huff, crossing her arms as she did so.

It looked like Mikan was so confused that she didn't notice the position they were in. Natsume's arm was wrapped around her shoulder which effectively pulled her to his chest, where she snuggled into whenever a scene that she didn't like took place.

Natsume loved the feeling of Mikan pressed up against him, pressing her face into his neck, as if he were protecting her from all of those mysterious troubles in her life.

He didn't want it to end.

Natsume abruptly stood up, made his way over to the TV and put _Forrest Gump_ into the DVD player.

"What are you doing?" asked Mikan.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm setting up that other movie you wanted to watch," Natsume answered.

"But…why?"

He gave the question some thought and said truthfully, "Because I like watching movies with you." Swiftly, he walked back towards Mikan, putting his arm around her to return to their former position. "And _you_ don't add unnecessary commentary to each and every line to the movie," Natsume added, remembering Koko acrimoniously.

Mikan timidly laid her head on Natsume's chest.

The movie ended quickly and Mikan sat watching the credits of _Forrest Gump_ with tears in her eyes.

"Why did Jenny have to die?"

"Because otherwise the movie would have been too corny," Natsume answered, not wanting her to fry but not wanting to say something nauseatingly sympathetic and sweet.

"Well, that's a horrible reason," Mikan said, wiping her eyes.

She sat up and yawned. Shortly after, Mikan stood up and began stretching her muscles.

Natsume couldn't help but notice the cold draft on his stomach that made itself aware as soon as Mikan left.

"Thanks for the movies and the popcorn, Natsume, but I better get going," said Mikan, sauntering to the door to put on her coat.

Natsume followed her. He put on his coat and opened the door for Mikan.

"Well?" he asked when she didn't walk out.

"What are you doing?" Mikan asked anxiously.

"Walking you home. What else am I going to do?"

Mikan looked out the door, frightened. "You don't have to, I'm fine by myself," she reasoned.

Natsume furrowed his eyebrows. Why did she want to walk home alone? It was well past two in the morning. It was too dangerous for a girl to walk home at night.

"I'm not letting you walk all the way to your place by yourself," said Natsume.

Mikan looked at him pleadingly. "I don't want to trouble you. Besides, my place is only five minutes away."

"I said no and I mean no," Natsume argued. "Why don't you want me to walk you home? Don't you trust me?" he demanded in a low tone.

Mikan looked at him with wide eyes. "Of course I do, I just…okay," she gave in, shoulders slumping. "You can walk me home."

"Good, now let's go."

They left the building.

Mikan led Natsume around campus, and it took only a few minutes for her to find her building.

She opened the door, turning back to say, "Thanks again for everything, Natsume. I'll see you on Monday."

Natsume nodded his good bye, contented that Mikan was safe at home.

He didn't stay long enough to see Mikan hurrying out of the building and run out of the gates of Alice Academy.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Author's<span> Note:** I hope that wasn't too bad for you guys. I'll be posting Part 3 in a few days-a week, depending on how hectic Christmas is. Part 3 will probably be the last chapter unless I do an epilogue. REVIEW please!


	3. Of Hurricanes and Fiery Tempers

Narumi's office had a strange smell to it. It reeked of perfume and chocolates, both of which Natsume wasn't very fond of. It was one of the countless reasons why Natsume hated being sent to Narumi's office.

"So, Natsume," the hateful professor said in a cheerful tone, "I see that the tutoring lessons are paying off. You are now passing with a C-. It isn't much, but you can't change your mark much in just a few weeks."

Natsume gave no reply. He just wanted to get out of this stupid office as soon as possible.

"But your artwork has _definitely_ developed!" chimed Narumi in a sing-song voice. "I am so grateful that I don't have to look at your former garbage anymore."

Natsume frowned at him, peeved. It was true that his art skills had improved a great deal, but that didn't give Narumi an excuse to make fun of him.

Narumi gave Natsume a sly smile. "So," he said, "how are things going with Mikan?"

Natsume gave him a dead panned look. "Teachers aren't supposed to meddle in student affairs," he said calmly.

"I'm not meddling, I'm asking."

He glared at the blonde man. Reluctantly, he said, "We're getting along."

Narumi laughed. "Yes, I know that. But I'm asking about the_ romance._" He leaned in, staring into Natsume's crimson eyes. "Are you interested in her?"

Natsume bristled. "No," he lied. "Who would like that girl anyway?"

He heard Narumi laugh.

"Okay, Natsume-dear, you don't have to tell me about your love life," said Narumi, still shaking from laughter.

"Just shut the hell up."

Natsume rose from his seat. He headed to the door, hands in his pockets, scowl on his face.

"I'm not quite done yet," Narumi said from behind him.

Natsume didn't stop. "Well, I am."

"Mikan's been happier lately than I've ever seen her." Narumi spoke in a soft tone. Natsume halted at 'Mikan'. "She actually smiles now." He gave Natsume a big smile of his own. "And I know it's because of you."

Narumi let these words sink into Natsume before saying, "Now I'm done."

Natsume left, not caring if Narumi was truly done talking.

What was that supposed to mean? Natsume never knew that Mikan never smiled before they became friends. Was she really that miserable? He thought back to how she hung her head whenever she was in a crowd. Even when only a few strangers passed by, her eyes were glued to the floor, as if she was walking on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

His thoughts traveled back to when Mikan first came to his apartment. Her eyes were wide with astonishment. Was that it? Was Mikan poor?

_That's a good possibility_, Natsume thought. It would explain why she always wore those hand-me-down rags she called clothes. Natsume had never even _talked_ to someone who wore such worn-out clothing.

But that didn't explain why he caught her crying a few weeks ago. Mikan's mournful expression filled Natsume's mind. He shook his head clear of it. If it could be helped, he never wanted to see Mikan cry like that again. Ever.

He looked at his watch. "Almost 7:30," he muttered under his breath.

Natsume found his legs carrying him towards the art room (he was already in the building). Since it was almost eight o'clock and he was almost there anyways, Natsume thought he might as well wait until Mikan showed up.

_I don't feel like walking all the way to my apartment just to come back here again,_ he told himself inwardly.

Natsume opened the door and shut it inaudibly. He turned around and froze.

There, standing in front of him, was Mikan. Her hair was down. Natsume's heart skipped when he took in her beautiful brown locks curling ever so slightly, almost falling to her waist. Her glasses were laying on the table behind her, placed carelessly.

Natsume finally became aware of the easel behind her. It looked as if she was painting a picture of fields.

The golden grass looked as if it was actually moving in the same breeze that rustled the trees' branches, causing a few scattered leaves to drift to the ground. There were barely any clouds in Mikan's sky, just a gusty mist that embraced the canvas.

This painting wasn't like the one Shouda had painted. If anything, it could have been the opposite. Everything that was wrong and artificial in Shouda's painting was natural and just so damn _right_ in Mikan's.

Natsume now knew why Mikan was Narumi's best student. Even someone as dense in art as him could see it.

It was then that Natsume saw Mikan tremble. Her entire frame shook violently.

_She must be crying again_, he thought with concern. Natsume, about to comfort her, stopped mid-step when she raised her right arm and slashed at her painting.

If Natsume did not have so much control over his body, he would have stumbled and made a noise of some sort that would have given him away.

Only when he silently moved to a better view-point did he notice that Mikan hadn't even touched the painting. Instead, it was the paintbrush in her hand that had taken the hit. And on the once peaceful setting was a great large streak of gray; it took all the tranquility out of Mikan's painting.

But more followed. Before long, the entire center of the painting was covered by a large whirl that flowed upwards until it touched the sky. Mikan then selected a different brush and put more gray-black paint on it. She covered the sky with dark, stormy clouds, that crackled viciously in its attempt to escape the borders of the picture.

Mikan had created a hurricane. A destructive one.

Realization finally dawned on Natsume. She wasn't crying. She wasn't even sad. Mikan was _furious. _

She darkened the golden grass, dimming the painting completely. With a final swoop of her arm, she splattered dark green paint onto the hurricane, representing the disgruntled leaves from the now agitated trees.

Mikan slammed down her tools lividly. She stood still, her hands clutched into fists.

When Natsume saw that she was still trembling from anger, he rushed forward and hugged her from behind, startling her.

Mikan stared at him with large eyes. "Natsume, what-"

"You don't have to tell me why you're so angry," Natsume interrupted, his voice barely above a whisper. He held her tighter. "Just let me hold you."

She paused. Finally, Mikan let out a small, shaky sigh. She turned around, still encircled in Natsume's arms, and rested her head on the crook of his neck. She returned his embrace, squeezing him as if her life depended on it.

Nearly several minutes passed before the two slowly released each other.

Mikan kept her gaze downwards when she said, "I guess we'll pick up acrylic painting again today," she said softly.

Natsume was about to consent, when a better idea popped into his brilliant mind.

He grabbed her hand and headed towards the door, throwing her coat that he found crumpled on a desk nearby.

"What do you think you're doing?" demanded Mikan, trying to get out of his hold.

Natsume gripped her hand tighter to prevent her escape. "It's called skipping," he replied casually. "You should try it sometime."

"But we have a lesson and-"

"And it's Friday," disrupted Natsume. "That means it's movie night, remember?"

Every Friday since that first night, Mikan and Natsume had gone over to his place to watch movies from Koko's collection. It had become a sort of custom between the two.

Mikan continued to protest. He turned to look her in the eye and say, "Mikan, you're clearly not in the mood to do a lesson. Besides, it's not like I haven't gotten better at art."

"But Natsume, skipping isn't right! We'll get in trouble," she warned. God, she was stubborn.

"One night, Mikan," he tried again, "That's it."

After a series of conflicted emotions took over Mikan, she at last groaned and mumbled a nearly incoherent, "Fine…"

Grinning at getting his way (Mikan usually doesn't let him do what he wants), Natsume continued to walk out of the building and into his apartment, Mikan trailing along behind him.

Natsume motioned for Mikan to pick a movie and they began their usual routine: he made the popcorn, she chose the movie (the first one, anyways) and got the blanket. Natsume hated it when she got cold, which was pretty much _all_ the time.

He settled himself on the couch, munching on popcorn. After Mikan set up the movie, she sat beside him and began devouring the popcorn.

"What did you pick this time?" asked Natsume.

Mikan often chose family-friendly movies that made her laugh or ones like _Just Go With It_, which Natsume only watched to please her. Today she chose _The Hunchback of Notre Dame._

Natsume raised his brow at her inquisitively.

"I just feel like a Disney movie, okay?" Mikan replied defensively.

He shrugged, willing himself not to roll his eyes at her childishness.

As the movie played on, Natsume found himself laying on his back. His arms were wrapped around Mikan affectionately, her head positioned on his chest comfortably. Once the movie was over, Natsume looked at Mikan's teary-eyed face.

"Is there a movie that you _won't_ cry at?" he drawled, earning himself a slap on the arm.

"Shut up," Mikan bit out. "At least _I_ have a heart."

Natsume grumbled something under his breath.

"I didn't like that movie," she stated unexpectedly.

Natsume raised an inquisitive brow. "And why is that?"

Mikan shrugged. "I just don't like movies with unrequited love." She opened her mouth and blew her bangs out of her face. "I don't particularly like unrequited love, either."

Natsume gestured for her to carry on.

"Well," she said, "it's just really sad when you love someone so much and no matter how hard you try to win their-uh-affection, they will never love you back." Mikan glared at the credits playing on the screen of the TV. "It's even sadder when it could be just because your ugly."

Natsume gave a small smile and hugged her closer to himself.

He looked at the clock and found that they had plenty of time for another movie. Smirking, he sat up, brining Mikan with him, and got off the couch. He went through Koko's movie collection and found just what he was looking for.

Grinning maliciously, he popped the movie into the DVD set and sauntered over to Mikan-after turning off the lights, of course.

He crouched in front of her and smirked. "My turn. And I'm pretty sure you'll love my…pick."

Natsume's grin widened when she stared at him in horror.

"No, Natsume! We've already watched scary movies and you already know how much I hate them!" Mikan argued.

She tried to move off of the couch, but Natsume was much faster. He grabbed her by the shoulders and sat next to her, leaning back contentedly.

The movie started with a eerie, old woman lurking about as a small boy slept peacefully, ignorant of her presence.

It was at that moment that Mikan shoved her face against Natsume's chest, her arms clenching his now wrinkled shirt.

Natsume smiled. Oh, how he loved this movie. _We'll have to watch this movie with her more often,_ he thought sinisterly. He watched happily as _Insidious _played on, and the deeper they got into the movie, the tighter Mikan pressed herself against him. And he held her.

The ending made itself known when hundreds of violins blared consistently, making frightening, bone-chilling chords.

Natsume grabbed the remote and tuned off the T.V. Darkness enveloped them as silence ensued.

Natsume, thinking that Mikan had fallen asleep, look down to push her hair out of her face. Instead, he cam face-to-face with wide eyes and a jaw-dropped mouth.

Natsume chuckled at Mikan's terrified expression. Immediately, she reached over and whacked him on the head.

"Why would you make me watch that!" she asked furiously.

Natsume's chest rumbled with silent laughter. Only Mikan could make him laugh like this.

"It wasn't even that scary," he said, still snickering. It took him a few moments to recoup himself.

"Yes it _was_!" argued Mikan. She hid her face in his chest. "I'll have nightmares for weeks. Now I'll never be able to go home!"

Natsume stopped. Hesitantly, he used his hand to gently lift her face and looked into her deep, brown eyes.

"Then don't."

He inwardly laughed when Mikan's eyes widened noticeably. Blushing, she slowly lay her head in the crook of his neck. "Okay," she whispered.

Natsume smiled triumphantly, wrapping his arms around her small body. He observed how small Mikan was and reveled in her touch. This was pure bliss.

He was definitely going to remember this night.

* * *

><p>"Beep…Beep…Beep…"<p>

Natsume groaned. His arm lashed out in attempt to shut off the annoying alarm clock. Instead of an alarm clock, however, his hand came in contact with a face.

"Ouch!" yelped a voice. It was annoying and all-too familiar…

"_Koko!_" Natsume yelled, angry for having been woken up on a Saturday.

He something jump, startled, then groan and bury itself even closer to him. _Mikan_, he thought.

Instantly, he removed his hand from Koko's now red face and returned to Mikan's slim waist. Natsume opened his crimson eyes and found that Mikan was now fully on top of him, but she wasn't heavy at all. She actually made a very good blanket.

_Mikan's never sleeping at her place again, _Natsume decided absentmindedly, holding her tightly.

"What are you still doing here, Koko?" asked Natsume, angry that he was still watching them.

He didn't have to open his eyes to see that Koko was grinning mischievously. "Just watching the show." Natsume heard him crouch down and say, "Carry on. Don't mind me."

Before Koko could spout any other meaningless crap from his mouth, Natsume growled loudly and hit him on the back of the head. The stupid blonde-haired boy protested and walked away, put out from not being able to 'watch the show.'

Sick bastard.

Yawning, Natsume blinked drearily and scratched his head with the same arm he used to beat Koko. He snuck a peek at Mikan's sleeping face. His peek became a stare.

Natsume had never seen her face so…peaceful. Of all the times he had been with her, Mikan's face remained guarded. There were times when she seemed to forget herself and express her feelings more, but even those times were rare and short-except when watching movies. But now Mikan looked so calm and serene, so happy to just be by Natsume.

He lifted his hand and gently caressed her smooth face. _Her skin is so soft, _Natsume thought, _How in the hell did she sleep through that?_ Natsume wondered about Koko's creeping. That boy needed a hobby…a healthy one.

Natsume sighed. He realized that he couldn't fall back asleep. After adjusting himself and Mikan a little, he spent the next hour or so watching her sleep.

He would also have to beat Koko up _again._ Really, that boy would never learn.

* * *

><p>"Get off of me, Shouda," said Natsume coldly as he shook the green-haired pest off his arm.<p>

"Oh, lighten up, Natsume," Sumire chirped, smiling. "It's not everyday that I get to walk with you around campus."

"Only because I threaten to burn you every other time."

Sumire ignore this and continued to chat about the latest trends in hairstyles and other topics that Natsume couldn't care less about.

When he heard the word 'thong,' he decided to end the conversation, however one-sided it was. "I don't give a rat's ass. Now stay away from me, or you'll really wish that you weren't so obsessive."

Natsume walked away from Sumire, who looked as if she was about to cry-oh, no she was already doing that. Oh well.

As he was trying to distance himself from said crybaby, his eye caught a brunette in the middle of the crowd. Ignoring the squeals and up-downs of girls around him, Natsume caught up with Mikan and grabbed her hand.

Mikan squeaked in surprise. "Oh, Natsume, it's just you," she breathed. No amount of guarding could mask the evident relief in her voice.

"Who were you expecting?" inquired Natsume.

Mikan just shook her head in reply.

Apparently, she had figured out to stop asking him about his intentions. Mikan allowed him lead her all the way to the cafeteria, following dutifully behind. It wasn't until they both sat down at an empty table that Natsume noticed her looking at the ground even more than normal.

"What's the matter?" he asked. Was she embarrassed to be seen with him in public? That couldn't be it. Maybe she was just uncomfortable.

"Nothing," mumbled Mikan. Her head sank even lower.

She may be good at hiding her emotions when she wanted to, but lying clearly wasn't her strong suit.

"Tell me now, or I'll rip off your stupid skirt," threatened Natsume. It was an ugly skirt anyway.

Alarmed, Mikan glanced at him. "Uh…W-well," she faltered, "You see, I was walking…up some stairs when I fell. Yeah, and it was pretty bad-"

He reached over and, without delay, tilted her head up to face him.

Mikan's face was bruised. It had a greenish-blue tinge that spread over the right side of her cheek, marring her beauty.

Natsume's voice was low and vicious, "Who did this?'

Her voice was small and it shaky when she finally answered, "No one. I fell. Down some stairs."

"Tell me, Mikan. Now'

He could tell that she was embarrassed from the attention that they were drawing. But he didn't care, not the slightest bit.

She looked everywhere, avoiding his eyes. Licking her lips, Mikan reluctantly said, "I was embarrassed for tripping and being so clumsy. I knew that you'd think that somebody hurt me or something, so I tried to hide it. I guess it didn't work, huh?" She smiled dryly.

This didn't satisfy Natsume. He needed to know if someone was hurting her, and who. It could be one of those ditzy bitches who attended Alice, he thought angrily.

Mikan seemed to know that her whole 'I fell down the stairs' act didn't fool him. She sighed and went on. "Natsume, I know it's hard to believe but it's _true_. I fell down the stairs at my building because I was late for psychology." She took in a shaky breath. "Believe me… _Please_."

Natsume didn't know if it was the way her hands felt on his chest or the way her wide eyes looked at him as if he was the only thing that mattered-and damn him if he said that he didn't _love_ that feeling. Nonetheless, there was something about _her_ that made him give in, and that was a rare thing indeed.

"Fine," he said finally, "but if this happens again I _will _find out, because you _will_ tell me." His tone was strict and hard, as if talking to a small child.

And, like a child, Mikan guiltily dropped her head and nodded slowly.

"Good."

Natsume looked around and saw just how many people were staring at them; some in confusion, some in horror (fan girls), and a surprising amount looked at them in awe, as if they were the cutest thing in the world. They kept staring until Natsume emitted a low growl from his chest and glared at them.

"You know, Mikan," he bit out, trying not to sound soft, but knew he was failing anyway. "You can trust me. I mean…ah…" Natsume was no good at this. He didn't even know what stupid force had persuaded him to start in the first place. Natsume took in a gulp of air and tried again. "What I mean is, you don't need to take everything by yourself. If you ever…If you ever need anything, even if it's just an unhealthy amount of ice cream-because I know how much you like that-you can come to me."

It wasn't until now that Natsume realized just how sappy and revolting he sounded. Hastily, he added, "Just so you know."

Natsume was avoiding eye contact with Mikan the entire time he was talking. He waited for her to burst out in a fit of giggles. Cautiously, he snuck a peak at her face.

Mikan looked like the wind had been punched out of her gut and shoved right back down her throat and into her lungs. Her caramel-coloured eyes were wide and teary. She was breathing heavily, so heavily, in fact, that it worried Natsume.

He leaned across the table. Lightly, he placed his hand on hers and said, "Mikan, are you okay?"

After blinking away her tears, Mikan nodded vigorously. She let out a stifled laugh and grasp Natsume's shoulders, embracing him.

"Thank you," she said breathlessly. "Thank you so much."

Not knowing what to do, Natsume awkwardly rubbed her back and closed his eyes.

"She is _so_ lucky.."

"…_Adorable!_"

"Oh, God, I'm so jealous."

"Since when was Natsume Hyuuga such a softy?"

Those damn eavesdroppers.

Without another word, Natsume detached himself from Mikan and, ignoring her confused expression, picked her up off the bench. He set her down and said, "We're eating at my place."

Mikan nodded in understanding.

And so, the now-famed couple (though both of them were unaware of this) made their way to Natsume's apartment, Mikan ignoring the admiring/jealous looks she was receiving from girls, and Natsume scowling at every single damn one of them.

* * *

><p>Natsume was having a 'bonding day,' as Koko called it, with Ruka and, of course, Koko. That boy wouldn't let him and Ruka go anywhere without him. The afternoon started off normal enough, with Ruka and Koko chatting away about mundane things as Natsume added a few side comments. It was when they grabbed burgers at a nearby MacDonald's restaurant that Koko popped the question.<p>

"So what's this about a girlfriend?" his annoying voice chirped happily. He ignored Ruka elbowing him in the stomach. "Is she the girl that you were sleeping with on the couch the other day?"

Ruka looked at Natsume, shocked. "I didn't know _that_…"

Natsume gave Koko a malicious look that should've frozen him on the spot, and would have, had Koko been normal. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Koko snorted, "Let me guess, you're just 'friends'?" Another snort. "Natsume, my dear friend, girls don't cuddle against guys like that when they're just '_friends_'. And a guy wouldn't cuddle back with said 'friend.'"

Natsume kicked Koko from under the table. It wasn't that he was afraid to hit him in public, it was just that it wasn't convenient to reach all the way over the table.

"Who is this girl, Natsume?" Ruka spluttered. He was apparently shocked from hearing that Natsume slept with a girl. Even with his past girlfriends, he never stayed the night, nor let them stay the night in his apartment. Ever.

Natsume didn't answer. Instead, he glared at Koko.

And Koko, oblivious to the glare, grinned and started describing the girl he had seen in his apartment. "She looked a little on the short side, but she was pretty cute and had long brown hair. That's all I could really tell, since Natsume here kept hogging her all to himself. I mean, really, when will you learn to share?" Koko asked his murderous-looking friend, batting his eyes.

"She was never yours to begin with," snapped Natsume. Because, after all, it _was_ true.

"Hang on," Ruka said, "does this girl happen to be the same person who's been tutoring you for the past two months?"

Natsume gave him a dark look. "What's it to you?"

Ruka raised his hands out in defense. "Nothing. Just wanted to know, that's all." He subtly cleared his throat. "So…do you like her?"

Koko grinned at this.

Natsume looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. "She…" he began tentatively, "she's different."

"Different from what?" asked Koko, slurping his root beer.

"From all the other stupid girls in this academy, obviously," he said. He was so tired of all of Koko's stupid questions.

"Is she cute?" Koko asked. 'I didn't get a good look the other day."

"Is she nice?" Ruka asked.

Apparently, the two of Natsume's 'friends' were gaining up on him. But he knew that if he didn't answer every single one of their damn questions, they would never leave him alone until he finally broke down. Just thinking about those long, irritating hours of hearing ht e same question over and over again made Natsume's gut churn with dread.

He sighed, "Yes and yes."

"But she's just a friend?" returned Ruka.

"Maybe…"

"If she's not," Koko intruded, "can I have her?"

This time when Natsume kicked him, he yelped from the pain. Koko rubbed his shin bitterly, his constant grin now falling slightly.

That is, until he remarked, "I guess that means that you _do_ like her."

Natsume groaned.

"Wait a minute," Ruka said, scratching his blonde hair, "I thought you said that she was a pain in the ass?"

Natsume bristled. So what if he said that? That was nearly two months ago; things change. "That was-"

His objection was interrupted by a shrill shriek.

"NATSUME!"

Natsume cringed. He turned around to find Sumire seething at him. She walked towards their booth.

"Shit," he mumbled.

"What was this I heard about you and a _girl_!" demanded Sumire, her screams gathering attention.

"What about it?" drawled Natsume.

Sumire's face was flushed from anger. Her hair was frizzy and even stood up on end. "I heard that you two were…" She gave a small sob and said, "Romantically involved."

Natsume rolled his eyes. He and Mikan hadn't even kissed yet and now they were the school's gossip couple? Pathetic.

"I'm not in the mood for this, Shouda," he spat. "So get lost."

She immediately started bawling her eyes out.

Natsume pinched the bridge of his nose when he felt a headache coming on. Sumire's blubbering cries were an awful sound. Like a baby with a disgustingly snotty nose.

"Hey Ruka, didn't you say that Natsume thought that his tutor-girl was a fat-faced pig or something?" he asked curiously.

Though that got Sumire to calm down, Natsume had already reached his boiling point. He hated all these questions and attempted interrogations. Each question was another needle in his head, feeding his already big headache. And all of this happened just because of Mikan.

"A fat-faced _boar_!" he growled menacingly. "If you really want to know what I think of her, then fine."

He had had enough. Each question was another needle in his head, feeding his already big headache. Natsume had to make it stop.

"She's a stupid girl who doesn't know what's good for her She has horrible fashion sense and doesn't know how to take out her anger properly. Not to mention she's a crybaby."

He was ranting now. But he couldn't stop. "Her face makes me nauseous and she smells like a dead rabbit! Judging by everything about her, I bet she doesn't even have enough money for this school," Natsume added contemptuously.

Sumire squealed and jumped up, clapping her hands together. "I just _knew_ that you wouldn't fall for some girl dressed in rags!" She clung to his arm.

Natsume was about to shrug/push her off when he heard a shaky gasp from behind him. He turned around to face the eavesdropper when he came face-to-face with Mikan.

_Mikan._

Her hair was up, like it always was unless she was in Natsume's apartment, as were her glasses. Mikan's eyes were downcast, hiding her tear-filled eyes. She was trembling.

When she looked up to meet his gaze, Natsume felt like his heart shattered.

Her expression was even worse than that day when he caught her crying.

She opened her mouth and whispered in a shaky voice so low, Natsume had to strain himself to hear her broken words. "I can trust you, huh?"

Mikan slowly turned and walked away. Away from Natsume.

"No, Mikan!" he yelled and grabbed her arm. "You don't understand-"

"Please don't tell me that." Mikan's voice was small, like it could be crushed any second. "I heard everything you said about me, Natsume. And you know what? You're right."

He couldn't move. He couldn't say anything. But oh how he wished he could.

"I'm not pretty," she continued wretchedly. "And I know that I'm a big pain in the ass. I don't even have any smarts to make up for it."

Mikan started crying there, not like Sumire, though. Natsume watched as the crystalline droplets rolled down her face. She tried to smile. Even after everything, she still tried to smile. "But it's okay, because… you're not the first to think that, Natsume."

Mikan released herself from Natsume's hold and walked away.

She was gone before he could even register everything that happened.

The only thoughts that ran through Natsume's mind were repeated over and over: Mikan was gone. And it was because of _him_.

Abruptly, something on his arm pulled him away from where Mikan once stood. Natsume was forced to look into the green eyes of Sumire.

"She looked really sad," she commented. "But at least she'll stay away from my Natsume." Sumire started to giggle.

Rage boiled through Natsume. His entire frame shook with the fury he felt.

"Don't. Touch. Me."

"Hmm?" Sumire looked up to see his livid expression. "Is something wrong?"

He swung his arm out, effectively detaching himself from her. Natsume's red eyes blazed. "If you ever come near me again," he snarled, "I'll kill you."

Without sparing her or his friends another glance, Natsume ran out the door.

* * *

><p>Four hours. Natsume spent four <em>hours <em>searching for Mikan. But he couldn't find her anywhere.

He looked in every street that was even somewhat near Alice Academy, but she wasn't in any of them. So he looked in every alley, but even then, she didn't turn up. Natsume looked in what felt like every single damn crevice in all of Tokyo, but he couldn't find Mikan anywhere. He never felt so miserable and angry in his life.

Natsume stomped over to his bedroom and slammed the door. He flopped down onto his bed, staring at the ceiling.

This was all Sumire's fault. If she didn't show up and start wailing, then he would never have said all those hateful things about Mikan.

Actually, now that he thought about it, it was Mikan's fault, as well. If she just remembered how much he cared about her and looked after her now, then she would have knew that he didn't actually think that-not anymore.

Natsume felt shame wash over him. He couldn't believe that he actually tried to blame Mikan and Sumire for everything that happened.

He rolled over onto his side, a small frown appearing on his face. Natsume remembered the way Mikan tried not to cry in front of him, how she tried to make it seem like it was okay that he thought so ill of her. The part that baffled him the most was that it seemed that Mikan was trying to comfort _him_, like she thought he might feel guilty from her hearing what he said.

'_But it's okay, because…you're not the first to think that, Natsume.'_

Natsume clenched his right hand tightly, making sharp, red indents in his palm. His gut was twisting uncomfortably yet there seemed to be a sort of unfamiliar emptiness in there, too. He blamed it on the guilt. But then, guilt never felt so unbearable before.

'_You're right.'_

No, he wasn't. He was far from it. Natsume squeezed his eyes tightly. Everything he said was a lie. He didn't even mind her clothes so much anymore. As long as Mikan liked them.

A knock sounded from the door. After a grunt from Natsume, a sympathetic Ruka and a timid-looking Koko entered.

"What?" Natsume asked, not looking at either of them.

Ruka sat down on his bed. "We're sorry for how things…turned out."

Natsume remained silent.

"And we're sorry for asking so many questions even though we know how much you hate it!" blurted Koko. "We just really wanted you to get Mikan to go out with you. And maybe hang out with us…She seems really cool by the way you talk about her." Koko trailed off sheepishly.

Natsume grunted, "I don't know what you're talking about. I barely talk about her."

Ruka looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Are you serious? Natsume," he exclaimed, "She's _all_ you talk about."

Natsume froze. That wasn't true at all. "I talk about other things, too, in case you haven't noticed," he said.

Ruka merely shook his head. "Not nearly as much as you talk about Mikan. You always insult her and go around saying that she's the dumbest girl you've ever met. But still," he said, looking away and crinkling his brows in slight bewilderment, "you're never frowning or anything when you talk about her."

"It's kinda weird," added Koko good-naturedly.

Natsume finally met Ruka's gaze. "Then why did you ask if I still thought that she was a fat-faced boar?" he asked heatedly, inwardly wincing at his own harsh words.

"Because you never told me what your tutor's name was," he shrugged apologetically. "I never really put two and two together."

"No shit." Natsume buried his face into his pillow.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Koko asked hesitantly, "What are you gonna do about Mikan?"

Natsume lay on his bed, unmoving. How on earth was he supposed to make it up to her? Narumi already made it pretty clear that her life was messed up, and Natsume had only made it worse.

His heart sank even more. "I don't know, Koko," he replied in a half-whisper. "I really don't."

Natsume didn't know how long it was that the three of them stayed in his bedroom. All he remembered was Ruka patting his back comfortingly, and the awful feeling of wanting to curl up into a ball and never leaving his room again.

* * *

><p>He sat in a desk, arms crossed, head down, as he waited yet again for Mikan to arrive. This was the third time that she had skipped the lessons. Natsume understood why she didn't turn up for the first lesson since the whole episode at MacDonald's, and he could give her some sympathy for not showing up for the second one, either, but this was just pissing him off.<p>

Natsume hadn't seen her in five days, damnit. He needed to tell her how sorry he was (and that alone was a very rare case) and that he didn't mean any of it. But how the hell was he supposed to do that when she wouldn't even face him?

When he realized that she might not be tutoring him for a while, he tried looking for her at Alice Academy. But his efforts were in vain; no matter where he looked, Natsume couldn't find Mikan anywhere. It was like she had cut herself off from his life entirely.

And now he was sitting here like a pathetic puppy waiting for his master to come pick him up. But the worst part was that he didn't care (much). He felt like an idiot, sitting all alone for two hours in the art room, thinking hopefully, _Maybe she's late. Mikan's late all the time. _Only to have to watch the same desk as his expectations and hopes never fell through.

And yet he still waited. Natsume waited and waited, until he was forced to accept the fact that Mikan wasn't going to come tonight.

Dejectedly, he grabbed his coat and left the building. Mikan would come on Monday for sure. Right?

* * *

><p>Natsume tapped his foot with impatience. Mikan still hadn't shown up.<p>

He didn't know why she was over-reacting. It was obvious that he didn't think all of those things, so why did she have to believe it so full-heartedly? She should at least give him a chance to redeem himself.

Sure, he shouldn't have said any of that stuff, and he shouldn't have taken his anger out on her, and he should have stopped her when she ran from him…Natsume groaned and banged his head on the desk.

Mikan had every reason to be mad at him. He had no right for saying everything that he did. He just wished that she would finally let him see her. He was getting so restless.

A half-hour passed before Natsume finally decided to do something while he waited for Mikan. Tentatively, he walked over to the back room and grabbed some brushes, a canvas, and a set of acrylic paints. He set up the easel, remembering everything that Mikan had told him. Natsume looked at the brushes in his hand for a while. _What the hell am I supposed to paint?_ he thought at last.

Shrugging off his initial uncertainty, Natsume chose a flat brush and spread some of each colour onto his palette. He dipped his brush into a dark orange and promptly slashed the brush across the canvas violently.

_That felt…pretty good,_ he thought. Natsume repeatedly slashed his brush against the canvas, occasionally adding tints of red and yellow.

His arm moved rapidly; he almost didn't know what his next move was until he did it. Blindly, he stuck the paintbrush against the canvas as a final stroke.

Natsume stepped back and looked at what he created.

_Fire._

The formerly-white canvas blazed brightly even in the poorly lit room. The warm colours seemed to burn so furiously, Natsume thought that it fit him very much.

He stopped. Narumi's words filled his mind. _"And I think you need to understand the real concept and expressionism of art more, too." _

Natsume slumped against the edge of the table next to him. So he finally understood what expressionism meant. Why didn't he feel…happy? Was it because he truly didn't care about art?

No, ever since he started liking Mikan, he had stopped hating it. Then was it because Mikan wasn't here to get excited for him?

Natsume didn't notice the small smile grace his features-the first in days-as he thought about how she would react. First, she would smile and say in an exasperated voice, "Well it's about time!" or "Finally, I was beginning to think you really _were_ going to fail art." And then she would playfully hit his shoulder, to which he would respond by flicking her forehead.

Natsume's thoughts began to roam.

Mikan would laugh and embrace him, and he would hug her back (of course). Then, she would look up, just as he was about to look down, and their lips would meet and-

Natsume shook himself out of his fantasies. _When did that happen?_ he asked himself. Sighing, he decided to drop the question; he had far too many already in his mind.

Quickly, he straightened and put away the supplies that he had used. He looked at his watch. 10:17. He let out a low sigh.

Natsume walked out into the rain, thinking absent-mindedly, _Mikan liked the rain._

* * *

><p>"You can't be serious," Natsume said as he looked disbelievingly at Narumi.<p>

"It's true," the thick professor said, "Mikan told me that you don't need her help to pass art anymore, and quite frankly, I agree."

Natsume lowered his head, his bangs covering his eyes. His body started to shake uncontrollably.

"Your skill in both drawing and painting has improved a lot since you first started, so much, in fact, that I didn't know it was possible, my dear Natsume," praised Narumi. He walked around his office, his arms swinging by his side. "You already have a B. Don't tell me that you still think that you need Mikan for a pass-"

"I do."

He looked up to see Narumi looking at him curiously. "Why is that?" he asked.

Natsume lowered his gaze again before saying, "I need to hear her stupid high-pitched voice everyday to nag me about treating people so rudely and smiling more. I need to see her brainless figure chasing me all over the place because I stole her glasses again. I need to smell that repulsive strawberry stench that follows her around everywhere." He bit the inside of his lip and went on. "I need Mikan. I need her in my life again."

He couldn't tell Narumi how much he wanted to hold Mikan again, or how much he wanted to bury his nose in her hair and stay like that for the rest of the year. And without doubt, Natsume could not tell him just how much he wanted to taste her sweet, plump lips, along with the rest of her body, as well.

Narumi walked over to his seat and sat back down. He tilted his head and clucked, "Tut tut, looks like Natsume's in love. What a pity."

Natsume glared at him before growling, "I'm not stopping the lessons, and you can't either."

He stalked out of the stupid frilly office of Narumi and made his way to the art room.

It was already evening, but there were still a few people in the art room catching up on work that they had procrastinated on. Natsume paused for a moment before heading to the back of the room, ignoring the astonished stared of his peers.

He found one of the boxes of work that Mikan frequently used to show him examples of art and such. Without a second thought, he grabbed it and walked all the way to his apartment.

Natsume sat down on the couch, setting the box of work down on the ground. He took a large sip of his soda (Mikan made him stop drinking alcohol) and opened the box.

Immediately, he faced the horrid picture of 'Two Bunnies In Love' that Sumire had made. After staring at it again, Natsume decided that it was horrible and corny, but not as bad as he remembered it.

He flipped through many works of art, some incredibly bad, others incredibly good. Natsume stared at the picture of the garden fairy and remembered how Mikan had criticized him fervently on not trying in art.

He found the stormy seas that crashed together on toothed, jagged rocks all because of some idiot guy that cheated on a girl.

Finally, Natsume found the picture of the plain, old chair facing the plain, old wall. This picture was probably one of his favourites now. He grinned when he traced the squiggly lines that used to bother him so much. Still grinning, he flipped the painting over to read the description.

_Empty_

Natsume snorted at the title. He briefly wondered what Mikan thought about the name until he looked down and read the artist's name.

_Mikan Sakura_

He dropped the painting. Natsume's eyes widened in horror. Mikan painted this.

Natsume hurried out the door and ran down the street. Mikan's words kept playing in his head like a broken record player.

'_I would want to kill myself, too, if I were her.'_

_'_I would want to kill myself, too, if I were her.'__

__'If I were her...'__

"I'm so sorry, Mikan," he choked, ignoring the rain as he sprinted down the streets.

* * *

><p>Natsume stopped as soon as he heard the stifled scream that echoed in the alleyway. He was still searching for Mikan, but that scream was the only thing that interrupted his hunt. Curiously, he turned around. What he saw would give him nightmares for weeks.<p>

Several men were chasing a girl. They were armed with knives and large sticks that looked like they were made specifically to beat people, to beat the girl they were chasing.

Natsume felt his breath leave his body as he realized that the girl who was running from them was Mikan.

"No," he whispered. "_NO!_"

Adrenaline rushed through his body. Natsume hastily ran after the men. He had never run so fast in his entire life.

When he turned the corner, Natsume stumbled upon the men holding Mikan down on her knees, as their 'leader' spat venomously at her.

"You bitch!" he heard the man say. "Did you really think that you could run from us?" The man laughed hysterically before snarling in an inhumane voice, "Or did you think that your pretty boyfriend would let you stay at his place as long as you let him get a few?"

It was when he slapped Mikan's face that Natsume finally snapped. Everything went red. The adrenaline in his body didn't even have to push him forward.

Though his steps echoed, none of the men realized he was there until he struck the bastard who hit Mikan in the side of his head. He punched him with enough force that he fell to the ground, unconscious.

Natsume, breathing heavily, stared fiercely at the remaining men. "If you ever come near her again, I'll kill you." He said this with such a menacing voice, it surprised even himself.

"Natsume," Mikan murmured disbelievingly. There were tears in her eyes, and her face was red.

The three men released Mikan and ran at him. _I guess they don't believe me,_ Natsume thought.

Remembering his self-defense lessons, Natsume waited until the last moment to run at the wall next to him, jump off it, and land behind one unfortunate man who gasped as Natsume hit him repeatedly in each place that he knew would hurt.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Natsume twisted and kicked the second man in the face, which sent him flying into the side of a nearby dumpster.

The last man remaining hit Natsume in the side with his large stick. Natsume, grateful that he didn't think to use his knife, turned and stuck him in he neck, hard.

Natsume bent over, panting. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and turned to look at Mikan.

She had approached him hesitantly, wide-eyed. Carefully, she crouched down and looked him in the eye. Natsume noticed that her glasses were gone and realized that they were probably broken on the ground somewhere.

Natsume reveled in her gaze, almost sighing with content.

"Are you okay?" Mikan said as she brushed her fingers over his side.

He suddenly remembered how melodic her voice sounded, and how much he missed it. Still caught in a slight daze, he simply nodded his head.

She looked away from his crimson eyes. "Natsume, why did you save me?" asked Mikan quietly.

It took a few moments for him to come up with an answer. Not getting any success, he replied, "Why did you think that I wouldn't save you?"

Mikan instantly narrowed her eyes. She scowled at him and pointed out, "Well, I kinda figured that you hated me. So excuse me for not thinking that you would beat those guys up for me!" She crossed her arms and turned away.

"I could…" Natsume started, his anger fading, "I could never hate you."

"Then why did you say-"

Natsume abruptly cut her off. "I was mad, okay? Ruka and Koko were already pissing me off, and Shouda came and started blubbering which made everything worse." He took in a deep breath and continued. "I may have not liked you in the beginning but then you kept pestering me and being cute and…you know, this is all your fault."

Natsume glared at Mikan accusingly.

"What the-_how?_" She gaped.

Natsume rolled his eyes and answered, "If you were ugly, gross, and slow like you were supposed to be, then I would have never liked you so much and gotten into this predicament."

Mikan fumed.

"By the way, why were those men chasing you?" Natsume returned. When he saw that she was intent on ignoring him, he let out a low rumble. "Answer me. Mikan. Right now."

She let out a long sigh. "I still don't see why I should tell you. Maybe you don't hate me, but I doubt you care for me very much. Good bye, Natsume."

With that said, Mikan stood and walked away, only sparing Natsume one longing look.

No. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It was never supposed to be like this.

Swiftly, Natsume stood and ran up to her. When Mikan turned around, surprised, he paid no attention to her objections and scooped her up into his arms. Natsume began to walk back to his apartment.

"Put me _down_, Natsume!" shouted Mikan. She struggled to get out of her current bridal-style position, but her efforts were wasted. Natsume was much too strong for her.

"Like hell," he retorted. He looked in the eye. "Do you know how I felt when I kept going to the art room when you never even showed up?"

Mikan bit her lip uncomfortably.

"I would wait there like an idiot for two hours every time we were supposed to have our lessons. It got to the point where I waited there on every night hoping that I would catch you." Natsume blinked away his blurred vision. "When Narumi told me that you wanted to stop tutoring me…I don't know, I just never felt that terrible in my life before.

"And when I saw your name on the back of that painting, I lost it. I looked for you everywhere. I didn't-I don't know what I would do to myself if you weren't with me…" He was aware of how pathetic and weak he sounded, but he couldn't find the will to care. He just needed Mikan to believe him.

"I'm so sorry, Mikan." He moved her a bit so he could rest his cheek against her head for a moment as he walked.

Rain started to spit. Looking up, Natsume realized that they only had so much time before it began to pour.

Natsume started to run again, earning him a very cute squeak from Mikan. She wrapped her arms around his neck to help keep herself from falling (as if that would happen).

Within minutes, they were at Natsume's front door. He kicked it open and shut it with the same force. Refusing to let Mikan down yet, he strode over to the living room, where he found Koko watching TV.

Natsume gave him one look before saying, "We're watching TV. Out."

Koko grinned slyly and let out what sounded like-and probably was-a perverted sort of hum. He then got off the couch and walked to his room. As soon as he shut the door, Natsume finally set Mikan down.

"Natsume!" she said. "You can't just kick people out of the room like that!"

Natsume grinned down at her. He really missed her nagging him.

"Of course I can," he said. "Especially considering all the shit he's put me through."

"That's no excuse."

He shrugged and lightly pushed her over to the couch, where he sat down.

Timidly, Mikan sat down next to him.

"Now's the time to tell me why those men were chasing you," Natsume practically commanded.

"It's kind of a long story…"

"Then start from the beginning."

She sighed and leaned back. Taking in a deep breath, she began talking. "My parents died in an accident when I was seven. I had no brothers or sisters, so I was all alone. I was sent to live in an orphanage-I didn't have any relatives, you see-until a man came and adopted me. His name was Persona. I was so happy that I got to finally leave the orphanage." Mikan's eyes started getting teary.

"Persona was-_is-_in a gang. He was constantly away and left me in the care of his right hand men. Apparently, the only reason I was adopted was so that they could…play with me or something. They beat me a lot. And they like to taunt me and call me awful names…"

She was wavering now. Natsume, concerned, reached out and put his arms around her, urging her to continue. Mikan leaned into his touch, forgetting her initial anger.

"I was so scared all the time. Sometimes they would even come to my schools or follow me in public. Afterwards they would corner me and start pushing me around and stuff. One time I remember running to the police, but they denied everything and claimed that I was mental or something. That was the worst day I've ever remembered.

"I hated my life so much. I really wanted to commit suicide to just end it all, but sometimes I would remember my mom and dad or Persona would catch me and give me punishments."

Mikan bowed her head in embarrassment and shame.

Natsume couldn't believe it. This was much worse than he had thought. "Did they…touch you?" he asked hesitantly.

To his great relief, Mikan shook her head. "They tried to a few times, but I always managed to get away somehow."

She continued, "When I got accepted into Alice Academy, I was so happy. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. I thought that _finally_, I would be able to run away from them. I would start my life all over again and have a fresh start.

"But they wouldn't let me leave, no matter how hard I tried. Those bastards made me live with them still."

Natsume stopped. "Then when I walked you home all those times-"

Mikan shook her head sadly. "That isn't where I live. I'm sorry for lying to you, I just didn't want you to see how screwed up my life is."

"I took out all my anger and frustration on my paintings and drawings," she said with remorse. "I was surprised at how much it helped."

Natsume nodded, having finally experienced that feeling himself.

"And then I met you," Mikan said with a smile. "At first I didn't like you much. You were rude and just a big jerk. But when you calmed me down one day after those men were chasing me again, I started liking you." She looked up at him with her big, brown eyes. "You were the thing that I looked forward to. I couldn't wait for our lessons because those were the only times when I felt like I was _normal_."

Natsume held her tighter, resting his head against her own.

"That night that I stayed here," Mikan said with a blush, "was when Persona lost it. He was mad that I was 'straying from him,' he said. Apparently, he wanted to save me for himself. Persona also said that you didn't really care about me. That you only wanted me for my body or something. He…um, hit me in the face and pushed me down some stairs. So I wasn't really lying to you when you asked what happened to me." She smiled sheepishly.

Natsume didn't think it was funny at all. Nevertheless, he let her continue.

"I really wanted to tell you what was happening, especially after you told me that I could trust you, but then I overheard what you said about me and…I don't know, it was like everything came crashing down. Like Persona had it all planned out, and I was just his puppet to amuse him."

Natsume felt guilt wash over him again. But this time it felt like an entire tidal wave came and crashed into him repeatedly, trying to drown him.

"I didn't want to see you because Persona and his men beat me even more these past couple of weeks," Mikan confessed. "I didn't really want you to see me like…this."

Natsume moved so that he could see her. She was crying. Tears ran down her face whe she tried to hide her face in his shoulder.

He took hold of her wrist and looked at it closely. He stared at her bruises fixedly before bringing her arm up to his mouth and kissing each bruise softly, hypnotized. Natsume felt Mikan stiffen, but he carried on.

He kissed each and every bruise on her arm, moving the sleeve of her shirt up. At last, Natsume released her arm and turned her face with his hand. He pressed his forehead against hers.

It explained everything: the times he caught her crying, why she acted the way she did, and why she wore glasses she didn't even need. It was all to hide herself away from everyone, to blend in.

"Mikan," Natsume said softly, "I'm so sorry. For everything." He let out a deep, shuddering breath and opened his crimson eyes to meet her caramel eyes. "Do you have anything of importance at your old place?" he asked abruptly.

Mikan, perplexed, replied, "Uh, no, just my clothes but nothing else."

"We'll get you new ones. Ones that you'll actually like," Natsume proposed. He decided to take her to a mall and buy her all the clothes that she wanted. He couldn't wait to be given a chance to spoil her. And he knew that once she let down her hair and wore decent clothing, Mikan would be a heart-stopper, _his _heart-stopper.

"But…why?"

"Because, I'm not going to have my girlfriend run around campus in clothes that not even _she_ likes," Natsume answered. He grinned at her expression.

"B-but…huh?" Mikan was completely and utterly baffled.

"From now on, you'll be living with me," he stated. "You'll sleep with me in my room-" mischievous smile- "and I'll let you share my closet. I barely use it anyways."

Mikan narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't _I_ get a say in this?" When he shook his head, she said, "You don't have to do this, Natsume. You've already done so much for me. I don't want to be a free-loader or anything-"

"Can you cook?" Natsume interrupted.

Mikan blinked. "…Yes…"

"Then you're not a free-loader. I've been living off of take-out for the past few months and it's already gotten old. I can't cook for myself and eating Koko's food is out of the question."

Natsume looked at her longingly. "Please Mikan, just stay with me. I want to live with you."

She gave him a strange look. "What if you get bored of me one day? Or if we keep fighting and stuff?"

It was Natsume's turn for the strange look. "Do you honestly think that's going to happen what with all the crap we've been through?"

Mikan laughed, which made Natsume's heart soar. "I guess you're right. Alright," she said, "I'll live with you, but only until I get a job and have enough money to live-"

Natsume pressed his lips against hers. This was pure ecstasy. Mikan's lips were sweet and when she started kissing him back, Natsume was in seventh heaven. He loved the way she reacted to his touch, and the way she whimpered in pleasure when he deepened the kiss.

After pulling away for breath, Natsume glared at her.

"What did I do now?" she asked, exasperated.

"You are going to live with me until we both drop dead. That's final."

Natsume kissed her again until she finally gave in.

They both laid on the couch comfortably, Mikan sprawled on Natsume's chest as he held her. He was so happy that he had her back in his life again, and he would be damned if he ever let her go.

Looking down, he told Mikan in a soft voice, "I love you."

She looked back up at him and said, "Good. Because you know how much I hate unrequited love."

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><p><strong>Author's<strong> **Note:** FINALLY! I'm so sorry that it took so long to post, but I hope that this chapter made up for it ;) I'll be returning to writing my first story, _The Bet,_ and I hope to post the next chapter in a couple of weeks.

Please REVIEW! (It makes me update faster)


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